


What Would Jesus Do?

by owltype



Category: JYJ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3647214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owltype/pseuds/owltype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt “ONE NIGHT STAND BEFORE THE FIRST DAY OF YOUR NEW JOB AND OOPS THAT WAS YOUR NEW BOSS YOU WERE SLEEPING WITH” AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Would Jesus Do?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hot Mess March Madness, created by boonies.

“I don’t normally do this,” Jaejoong gasps as he sinks balls deep into the guy underneath him.

“I know,” the guy says as he pushes back against Jaejoong, meeting him thrust for thrust. “You’ve said that three times already.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaejoong says for what must be the tenth time that night. “I don’t know how to do one-night stands.”

Suddenly Jaejoong is being spun around and he lands on his back with an _oomph_ followed by a groan as the guy straddles him and he’s again sheathed in _hotwettight_.

“Stop thinking so much,” the guy says in Jaejoong’s ear. “It’s just sex. Fun, anonymous sex, with no hang-ups the next morning.”

Jaejoong nods and lets go.

\-----

“Mr. Kim, right this way, please,” the secretary says with a pretty flourish of her hand.

“Thank you, Ms.,” Jaejoong squints at the tag sitting on her desk, “Ahn.”

She smiles, charmed, and opens the door to an ornate office, standing back so he can enter. “Mr. Park is in a meeting right now, but he should be finished soon,” she says. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you,” Jaejoong says. Ms. Ahn nods and bows and leaves.

Jaejoong wanders around the office, taking in the wide mahogany desk and the gleaming crystal decanters full of a dark, amber liquid. He’s debating the merits of taking a sip, just to take the edge off, when he hears the doorknob turn. He quickly sits in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk and arranges himself to look confident and professional, though he feels neither.

“Mr. Kim,” says a voice that is strangely familiar and Jaejoong turns to look and feels the bottom of his stomach drop out and his heart rate skyrocket.

Mr. Park stares at him then smirks. “Well now, isn’t this interesting?”

Jaejoong feels heat infuse in his cheeks. “Oh, damn,” he says.

\-----

“You’re sure you’re not just giving me the job because of, well, you know…”

“Mr. Kim, I assure you I am perfectly capable of separating my personal life from my professional one.”

Jaejoong wishes the ground would swallow him whole. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean--”

Mr. Park raises one palm to stop Jaejoong from speaking further. “It’s all right. I can understand why you would feel nervous, but you have nothing to worry about. I have studied your résumé myself, and after conducting this interview, I feel confident that you are the right man for this job.”

“T-thank you, sir,” Jaejoong says.

“Welcome to the company, Mr. Kim,” Mr. Park says and stands to shake Jaejoong’s hand. Jaejoong accepts it gladly and tries really hard not to remember how good those hands feel on other parts of his body.

\-----

“You did _what?_ ” Junsu asks incredulously, eyes wide.

“Please don’t make me repeat myself,” Jaejoong pleads.

“I can’t believe it. Why do these kinds of things always seem to happen to you?”

“I don’t know,” Jaejoong whines. “Maybe I pissed off some enchantress or stepped on a sacred bug in another life.”

Junsu tsks sympathetically. “What are you going to do?”

“I guess I’m just going to have to try really hard _not_ to stare at his backside and imagine what it looked like--”

“ _WOAH_!” Junsu shouts. “That is _way_ more information than I want to hear.”

\-----

“Mr. Kim, will you come with me please?”

Jaejoong beats down his body’s immediate reaction to that voice: instant arousal, and turns to face his boss once he has himself under control. He follows Mr. Park into a small, well-lit office just outside of Mr. Park’s own.

“I’d like you to take a look at these paintings. They have been donated to the museum by the artist’s family. I have already authenticated them; what I would like you do to is appraise them.”

Jaejoong smiles. “Is this a test, sir?”

“Am I really that transparent?” Mr. Park asks airily, his eyes twinkling.

Jaejoong quickly looks away and gladly focuses his attention on the paintings before him.

“Classic Song Jihoon work,” Jaejoong comments, impressed. “It must have been hard for the family to part with these.”

“They said it was too hard to have them around. They felt society would benefit from them more.”

Jaejoong nods. “They’re beautiful pieces. Here,” he points, “I can see where the water ran a little. A minor blemish. Truthfully, I’m surprised by the quality of these pieces, seeing as they are some of his earliest. The color palette is astounding.”

“What would you appraise these at?”

Jaejoong gives them one last critical look. “Being that they’re early pieces, that will raise the cost a little, even with the small blemishes throughout. Song Jihoon work is in high demand right now, due to his recent and untimely passing. I would appraise each piece at between $750 and $1,000 apiece.”

Mr. Park nods in agreement. “That is what I had surmised, as well. Good job, Mr. Kim,” he says, clapping Jaejoong on the shoulder. “You have a great eye.”

Jaejoong can’t help the flush of pride Mr. Park’s words cause, nor the burn of lust from his touch. “Thank you, sir,” he says, his voice a little breathier than is strictly appropriate.

Mr. Park looks at him, his gaze calculating, before turning to head into his office.

\-----

“I’m dying,” Jaejoong says into the phone that night.

“You’re so dramatic, hyung,” Junsu says.

“You don’t _understand_ ,” Jaejoong says. “Do you know how hard it is to work with your boss after you piledrived him into the mattress and _not_ think about doing it again?”

“Ew,” Junsu says, making a gagging noise. “Can you please keep the sordid details to yourself?”

“Help me,” Jaejoong pleads.

“No,” Junsu says.

“Jesus would help me.”

Junsu sighs. “Have you ever considered therapy?”

“You’re a terrible friend,” Jaejoong says, morose.

“Okay, okay, fine. You could seduce him. Again.”

“I can’t sleep with my _boss_ ,” Jaejoong gasps.

“Why not? You did once already.”

“He wasn’t my boss then!”

“Why are you making this so difficult?”

“Because if I sleep with him, that could really complicate things! I need my job.”

“Then you only have one option: _get over it_.”

“But he’s just so pretty. And really great in bed.”

Junsu hangs up on him.

\-----

It takes Jaejoong a week to realize ignoring his attraction to his boss is not going to work. The more effort he puts into keeping his libido in control, the more uncontrolled it becomes, to the point Jaejoong finds himself in the communal bathroom one afternoon, debating the pros and cons of masturbation.

His second method is complete avoidance. Well, within reason. He still has to do his job, but he can do it without direct eye contact and minimal conversation.

He feels kind of ridiculous, but it’s better than focusing on those chocolate eyes and thinking about the way they fluttered when he hit _that_ spot, or staring at those lips and remembering how they felt wrapped around—

 _Shit_.

Junsu was right, he needs therapy.

 _Pull yourself together, Kim_ , he admonishes himself. _You slept together once. That hardly justifies an obsession_.

But Jaejoong knows it’s more than sex. He also thinks a lot about the way Mr. Park laughs; his quick, dry wit; the way he gets excited about music; and the cute little way he sticks out his pinky finger when he drinks.

“Honey, you’ve got it bad,” Ms. Ahn says one morning, after catching him staring dreamily at Mr. Park’s office door.

Jaejoong groans. “It’s noticeable, huh?”

Ms. Ahn laughs. “Not that I blame you,” she says with a wink. “Mr. Park is a very…mmm, handsome man.”

A possessive fury wells up in Jaejoong’s chest. Ms. Ahn reaches over her desk to pat him soothingly on the arm. “Relax. I have it on good authority that he only plays for the other team.”

“That’s great,” Jaejoong says.

“Also,” Ms. Ahn says slowly, a sly look crossing her features, “a little birdie told me Mr. Park is just _dying_ to get his hands on you… _again_.”

Jaejoong gapes at her. “How did you--”

Ms. Ahn smiles. “Let’s just say, we have a mutual friend,” she says. “I’d like to help you,” she continues.

“You want to help me seduce our boss?”

Ms. Ahn nods. “Unfortunately for you, pretty as you are, Mr. Park’s sense of professionalism is quite strong. Dating an employee, and a subordinate at that, is not something he would abide.”

“You’re really not making me feel better,” Jaejoong complains.

“Well, what if you _weren_ ’t his employee?”

Jaejoong glowers at her. “Are you trying to get me to quit so you can have my job, or something?”

Ms. Ahn waves his concern away. “I’m simply trying to give you a solution to your problem.”

“But I _need_ this job,” Jaejoong says.

“There are plenty of jobs for you in this city. I’ll even help you find one; I have excellent connections. But you don’t have to take my advice, if you don’t want to. It’s your choice.”

Jaejoong hesitates a moment then asks, “So what do I do?”

“Well, Mr. Park would never let you quit; you’re too good at your job for that. The only thing for you to do is…get fired.”

Jaejoong groans.

Ms. Ahn smirks.

\-----

Jaejoong tries hard, he really does, but it seems, when it comes to him, Mr. Park has a blindside as big as his….Well, anyway, he was getting desperate.

“I don’t get it,” he complains to Ms. Ahn. “I’ve taken the toner and ink from his printer and sent him on a scavenger hunt to find it. I sold his favorite chair on e-Bay. I even changed his computer software to the least-user friendly version I could find!”

Ms. Ahn shakes her head. “Those are just lame April Fool’s-esque pranks. You need to get _serious_. I heard Mr. Park had a date the other night. You don’t want to lose him, do you?”

“No,” Jaejoong says miserably.

“Here’s what you do,” Ms. Ahn says, leaning toward him conspiratorially.

\-----

“Mr. Kim, can I help you?”

Jaejoong turns to look at Mr. Park, the neck of one decanter of whiskey pressed to his lips, the other clutched in a trembling hand.

“Mr. Seshy,” Jaejoong slurs and climbs down off of Mr. Park’s desk.

“Mr. Kim, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Mr. Park says.

“But why?” Jaejoong asks. “We’re here, we’re alone. I say we recreate the night we met,” he says as he presses Mr. Park up against his office door.

“That would be…inappropriate,” Mr. Park says, and his voice, normally so measured, is strained.

“Don’t be like that,” Jaejoong wheedles and presses his lips to the skin behind Mr. Park’s ear. “I want you,” he whispers.

There’s a brief moment where Jaejoong’s words hang in the air and everything is silent and still, and Jaejoong hopes that he’s made a breakthrough and maybe he can have his boss without losing his job, because if the hard _something_ pressed against his hip is any indication, Mr. Park _very_ much wants this, too. But then Mr. Park pushes him away, and Jaejoong has one brief moment to appreciate the flush sitting high on Mr. Park’s cheeks before Mr. Park slides away from him and heads for his phone. He picks up the receiver, presses a number, says something quietly, and replaces the receiver in its cradle.

“HR would like to speak with you, Mr. Kim,” Mr. Park says.

 _Damn_ , Jaejoong thinks.

\-----

“Couldn’t you, I don’t know, find somebody _else_ to have sex with?” Junsu asks him later that day.

“This isn’t just about _sex_ ,” Jaejoong says, offended. “This is about giving us a chance to be together.”

“Well, for your sake, I hope everything works out well.”

“If not, Ms. Ahn owes me _so much_ ,” Jaejoong says darkly.

\-----

Jaejoong takes a deep breath to steel his courage before raising a fist to knock on Mr. Park’s front door.

“Yes?” Comes Mr. Park’s voice from the other side.

“It’s, uh, me,” Jaejoong says, his voice an octave higher than normal. He coughs to clear his throat and continues, “I’d just like to talk about what happened this morning.”

There’s a _click_ as the lock turns and Mr. Park pulls open the door to regard Jaejoong with amusement. “That was a stupid thing you did, you know,” he says as he pulls Jaejoong into the foyer.

Jaejoong gapes at him. “You mean, you’re not angry?”

Mr. Park laughs. “Of _course_ not. Somebody willing to lose their job just to get into my pants is somebody I want to keep around,” he says with a wink.

Jaejoong blushes. “Actually, Mr. Par--”

“Please, call me Yoochun,” Yoochun says and Jaejoong’s heart flies away from him.

“Yoochun,” Jaejoong says, trying it out. “I didn’t…um. I don’t just want…that. I’d actually like to….Well, if you’re okay with it, I’d really like to--”

Yoochun grabs Jaejoong by the wrists and pulls him flush against his body and captures his lips in a kiss. “If I let you take me out to dinner tonight, will you let me fuck you afterward?”

“Okay,” Jaejoong says, dazed.

\-----

“ _So_ worth losing my job for,” Jaejoong says as Yoochun kisses a trail of fire across his collarbone.

“About that,” Yoochun says against his skin. Jaejoong bucks up against Yoochun, trying to find that sweet friction. He’s so wrapped up in pleasure, he almost misses the next words: “You can have it back.”

“What?” Jaejoong asks, stupid.

Yoochun leans up to look down at him mischievously. “I rigged the whole thing.”

Jaejoong strains against Yoochun, but the man has too tight of a hold on his shoulders, and he uses that leverage to push Jaejoong further into the pillows.

“I had to make sure you were really interested in _me_ and not just my ass, you realize,” Yoochun says, resuming his assault on Jaejoong’s neck.

Jaejoong’s head is spinning and he’s trying to make sense of what Yoochun is saying, but Yoochun’s mouth feels so damn good and now, _now_ there are hands involved, too, and they’re driving him into madness.

“So Ms. Ahn,” Jaejoong asks, “she…”

“An old friend,” Yoochun says. “And fiercely protective of me.”

“Oh,” Jaejoong says distractedly, intent on watching Yoochun as he slinks lower and lower down his torso.

“You’re not mad?” Yoochun asks, stopping right above Jaejoong’s sex, his mouth almost touching the glans.

“I don’t…think so?”

“Good.”

And then those lips are wrapped around Jaejoong’s sex and all thoughts except for those of _hotwetheat_ leave Jaejoong’s mind and _damn_ Yoochun is too good at this he’s almost going to come just a little more and—

“No, no, no,” Yoochun admonishes as he pulls back. “None of that until I’m inside of you.”

“But _why_?” Jaejoong whines, just barely resisting the urge to beat his fists against the bed sheets in a fit.

Yoochun leans down to whisper in Jaejoong’s ear, “Because I want to watch you as you fall apart in my hands.”

Jaejoong closes his eyes against a fresh wave of lust. “Then you better hurry up or the party will be over _real_ soon,” he says and runs a hand down his own torso to pluck at the barbell in his navel.

Yoochun smirks and with one hand, reaches toward his nightstand while the other circles the base of Jaejoong’s sex and applies pressure. Yoochun returns with a bottle of lube and a condom, placing them on the bedspread next to them. He leans down to kiss Jaejoong and Jaejoong wraps his legs around Yoochun and pulls him in until they’re flush against each other.

“Hurry up,” Jaejoong says and grabs for the lube himself, pours a liberal amount over Yoochun’s fingers and guides them to his opening.

Yoochun works quickly, distracting Jaejoong from the burn by pressing searing kisses to every square inch of skin he can reach. Soon his fingers disappear and the sound of latex fills the air and then he’s _there_ and Jaejoong arches against the pressure and his mouth falls open in a silent moan as Yoochun slides into him, against his skin, against that spot inside of him that makes him see stars, against his very soul.

\-----

The next morning, at the breakfast table, Jaejoong calmly says, “I’m mad at you,” and kicks Yoochun in the shin when Yoochun tries to play footsie with him.


End file.
